


Fast Times

by firenzia



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Car Sex, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex in the Bentley (Good Omens), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firenzia/pseuds/firenzia
Summary: Aziraphale simply can’t wait until home to get his hands on his husband Crowley, so the vintage Bentley sees an entirely new kind of action.





	Fast Times

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ineffably Inevitable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19344982) by [IneffablePenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffablePenguin/pseuds/IneffablePenguin). 

> {This is a PWP one-shot companion to my main series, [Love, and Other Ineffable Things](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405606).}
> 
> Fun fact- this was the first PWP I ever wrote in my life! I’m pretty happy with how I think (hope???) I’ve improved in the time since, but I still have a fond spot for this one :)

* * *

It was a clear, cold March afternoon, and an angel and demon stepped out of the art gallery, bickering good-naturedly. “Bah. I’ve always been partial to post-Impressionism, myself,” said Crowley. 

“Yes, well, that certainly confirms that I’m the cultured one,” Aziraphale replied primly.

Crowley snorted and took his hand, smiling. 

They walked towards the car together. Crowley had of course secured the improbably perfect parking spot for their date, right on the front street. Aziraphale casually squeezed his demon’s hand and felt a flush of warmth when he immediately squeezed back, the gold ring on his finger pressing into his skin.

Six months since they had admitted to their feelings for each other, and two weeks since they were officially married, by human standards anyway. A little over six months of glorious happiness. Aziraphale had had no idea that life could feel this way; like he was living in one of his stories. And to think he had originally been going to just allow Armageddon to happen, to bring an end to everything and put this out of reach forever. The very thought was appalling now; he had come so very close to disaster without a second thought. Thank all the stars in Heaven that Crowley had talked him out of it. He would be forever grateful to him for that, more so than he could possibly say. 

_Crowley_. The late afternoon sunlight caught his husband’s dark russet hair, bringing out the red and deep gold highlights. That hair fell just so over his forehead- he still wasn’t sure if that was natural or deliberate. Either way he was just beautiful, so beautiful, and Aziraphale couldn’t keep his gaze off him. He eyed him sidelong as he walked towards the car, admiring the sway of his hips. He would never admit it to his face, but the way Crowley walked drove him absolutely wild. That dark red hair, the way his clothes sat on his slender body, the way he moved- everything about him was so unbelievably attractive he practically smoldered. And he was _his_. God, but he loved him.

Aziraphale beamed at the back of his head, and suddenly had the almost overpowering urge to get his hands on him.

The abrupt surge of hormones took him by surprise, even now, and he had to take a second to breathe and discreetly adjust himself. Ever since they had unearthed this new awareness together that night after Armageddon, this new human understanding, it was as if a hidden part of himself had reared it’s head with a vengeance. It had given a name to some of the vague, half-formed feelings he had nursed for all those hundreds of years, and now he simply couldn’t believe he had been unaware of it for so long. He’d had no idea that love and physical attraction could go so hand in hand, so inextricably intertwined. Whether it had been suppressed or simply undeveloped he had no idea, but that box had been opened and there was no closing it again. He could sooner give up food, or alcohol. Or books. Heavens, was this what it was like for all humans, all the time? he wondered. It would certainly explain a lot of behaviors that he had found baffling over the millennia. 

It no longer baffled him, that was for damn certain. A fifteen minute drive home should be a mere flash to a being thousands of years old...but Aziraphale did _not_ want to wait. 

An idea occurred to him then as they reached the car, a shocking and frankly very thrilling idea. 

He had read all kinds of interesting things in human stories over the years, but he had never dreamed of putting any of them into practice. But then he had never dreamed of doing lots of the things he had done lately. And now..._Whyever not? When in Rome..._ He bit back an excited smirk and glanced around, assessing. There were some other pedestrians on the sidewalk, but not enough to be called a crowd. Not enough to be a problem. 

Completely unaware of his angel’s leaping thoughts, Crowley kissed his lips, smiling faintly in that secret way he saved just for him. He walked around to the passenger side of the Bentley and opened the door, placing a gentle hand on the small of his back. 

Azirpahale did not get in. Instead he reached down to pull the mechanism that pushed the front seat forward, then climbed into the backseat. “What on earth are you...doing...” Crowley’s confused question trailed off as Aziraphale smiled impishly at him and reached out to tug on his hand. Uncertainty cracked through Crowley’s casual public exterior, but after glancing around self-consciously he ducked his head and allowed himself to be pulled into the backseat as well. He sat down and looked at him, head tilted curiously. 

Aziraphale reached past him and pulled the door shut, then gently removed the dark glasses from Crowley’s eyes and set them aside. He scooted backwards on the leather cushion until he was leaning up against the far window. There was just enough room to sit lengthwise, and with one leg on the floor there was space for two on the seat. He settled himself, then reached both arms out in a combination of invitation and challenge, raising his eyebrows. 

Crowley was definitely suppressing a smile now; one corner of his mouth was trying to quirk upwards, and there was a faint red flush in his cheeks. He raised an eyebrow at him, gently mocking, then gingerly pushed himself backwards to sit in his lap, between his spread legs. He glanced over his shoulder and cleared his throat. “Okay. So what _exactly_ do you think you are-” He stopped talking again as Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him tightly against him, then slid both hands down his front to start untucking his T-shirt. 

A quick glance at the windows caused them to swiftly darken until they were opaque. Public indecency was _not_ on his to-do list today. They were suddenly quite alone in the almost-darkness, with only the dim light of the Bentley’s overhead bulb. The car interior smelled like clean leather and motor oil. And Crowley.

“I’m just taking care of you, love,” Aziraphale murmured in Crowley’s ear.He gently bit the earlobe, then placed a slow, unhurried kiss on the back of his head. He worked his mouth down his neck without lifting his lips from the skin, taking his sweet time with each and every kiss. In contrast, his hands moved eagerly down to undo the button and fly of Crowley’s jeans. “You don’t mind if I take care of you a little before we go home, do you?”

He slid his hand down through the opened zipper, under the boxer briefs. As he touched the soft skin Crowley inhaled slowly and reached out to grip his thigh. Aziraphale cupped his hand around the slight bulge and squeezed gently. Crowley never responded mildly to anything, and this was no exception: he immediately swelled to full size, throbbingly hard and warm in his grip. He exhaled in shock, and Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Mmm,” he breathed. He trailed his fingers up the smooth, firm skin, tracing the contours of his erection with his fingertips. “Aren’t you just lovely.”

Crowley made a soft sound between a sigh and a moan and let his head fall all the way back to rest on his shoulder, eyes closed. He shifted himself a little on the seat, getting more comfortable, and relaxed completely into his arms with another sigh. 

Aziraphale smiled and slid his free hand up under the loosened shirt to hold him across the chest. ”That’s it, love, just relax; it’s just us now, I’ve got you.” He pushed down the waist of Crowley’s jeans, freeing more of him and giving himself room to work. He wrapped his hand around his sex and squeezed again, slightly more firmly, and began to rub him in slow upward strokes with his open hand, lingering for breathless moments at the tip before starting over at the base. He’d spent a lot of time during the last half year learning exactly what his demon liked - they both had- and he intended to put that knowledge to good use today. 

Crowley groaned quietly and arched his body against him, clutching at the edge of the leather seat with one hand and the angel’s thigh with the other. He looked so beautiful stretched out like that, lean body taut, eyes closed in ecstasy. It set Aziraphale’s pulse pounding in his ears and heightened his own rising excitement. 

He ran his tongue over the soft hollow behind Crowley’s ear while utilizing a tiny miracle to slick his palm. (He snorted internally at the idea of Head Office trying to make sense of _that_ audit). This time he closed his fingers firmly around his lover’s rigid member and squeezed as he pulled upwards. 

The next moan was loud enough that Aziraphale was afraid passersby might hear, so he quickly miracled the car to be soundproof as well. Satisfied that they were well and truly alone now, he took Crowley in his hand and began to move up and down in earnest, gripping him firmly and increasing his speed just ever so slightly. His breath came faster, in time with the rhythm of his hand, but he kept his voice soft and low as he murmured in his ear. 

“Does that feel good, love? Is there anything else you want me to do?” He kissed the side of his head, closing his own eyes and lingering there, soaking him in. He rubbed his other hand in soft circles on Crowley’s chest, tracing his fingers down the thin line of hair. “I love you so much, just tell me if you need anything else.” He ran one finger down the side of the rock-hard member, teasing him, then gripped firmly again and resumed his steady pulling. 

Crowley sighed and closed his eyes. “No, that’s- that’s so good. It’s perfect, you’re perfect,” he whispered. He groaned again, almost despairingly. “God, Angel, you’re perfect.” He reached one arm up and around to hold the back of Aziraphale’s head,turning his face towards him, and the angel leaned forward to kiss him. As he did so he slicked his other palm as well and reached down  to grip and stroke him with both hands in succession, one after another. Crowley whimpered and kissed him deeper, shoving his tongue into his mouth. He tasted like home. 

“I- ahhh- I don’t think I can- hold out very long at this rate,” he panted. His breath was hot on his face, and his eyes were half shut with his slitted pupils dilated to almost solid circles. He was craning his neck and gazing back at him with a combination of smoky lust and the dazzled expression that he sometimes wore when he thought Aziraphale wasn’t looking. Dear God, but it was lovely. 

Aziraphale just keep stroking him slowly, up and down, alternating between rubbing and squeezing. “That’s the idea,” he replied mildly, though he felt anything but mild. “You don’t need to hold out.” He ran his tongue up his neck, long and leisurely, and squeezed just a bit harder.  “You don’t even have to try. I just want to make you feel good. I want to feel you come. Just come nice and hard for me, darling.” 

Crowley shuddered and stretched up to wrap the other arm around hisneck too, clutching tightly at him. He moaned and shifted his hips, thrusting upward into his hands. 

“Oh yes, that’s it, love,” Aziraphale crooned softly. “That’s it, go on, just like that. You know you want to. You know it will feel so good. You’ll feel  so much better after.” He kept whispering in his ear, encouraging him and kissing his neck as he pulsed his grip and stroked just a little bit faster in smooth, even motions. Crowley was beautifully hard and slick in his hands, burning with the unnatural body heat that he always had. 

By now Crowley was bracing himself against the front seat with one foot and pressing against him, hands fisted in his hair and Aziraphale’s both as he moved his hips in time with his strokes, moaning and arching his back with each upward thrust. “Yes. God yes, I do want to, I want to come,” he panted through gritted teeth. “Don’t stop. Ahhh, please Angel, don’t stop. Faster.”

Aziraphale was getting excited despite his resolve; his pulse was pounding in his throat and making it hard to concentrate. He felt his own erection starting to dig into the back of the hips in his lap, and it felt incredible. He bit down on Crowley’s shoulder, using it to help him focus, but it was so difficult when all he really wanted to do was tear off his clothes and ravish him, or be ravished _by_ him. He shifted his own hips a little, grinding against Crowley from behind as he continued to squeeze and stroke him with increasing urgency. He could tell from the almost frantic noises Crowley was making that he was getting very close, and he indulged in a little pleasure of his own as he rubbed himself against him. He swallowed a moan; this was for Crowley, not him, he had to focus. He continued speaking softly in his ear.  “You’re almost there, just keep going. Just think about how good it feels. Just think how wonderful it will feel to lose control.” They were both panting raggedly now, leather creaking as they rocked on the seat. Aziraphale tightened his grip and stroked just a bit faster, pushing him towards the edge. “I can feel you," he whispered. "You’re almost there now, just a little further. Just a little bit further.” His self-control was fraying; the feel of Crowley rigid and thrashing in his arms, his constant cries of pleasure, were driving him mad. 

“Angel, I- God, I’m so close...you’ve got me so close, you feel so good. Oh, oh oh  shit, oh-" Crowley was almost sobbing now, breathing in great heaving gasps, thrusting desperately in short jerks. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m \- yes yes _yes-"_

With a strangled groan he threw his head back against his shoulder and climaxed violently, throbbing in Aziraphale’s hands as he orgasmed. His back bowed involuntarily and the angel clutched him tightly around the chest with one arm to hold him steady. “ _Yes_,” he whispered back, fiercely triumphant. He hung on to him for dear life as Crowley writhed in his arms, groaning his name. The movement pressed anew against his own painfully excited crotch and was almost enough to make him come as well. He was so exhilarated that he almost forgot to magic away the mess, but quickly remembered himself before it could dirty the car. 

Crowley fell back against him, gasping and wrung out. Aziraphale twined his arms around his waist, smiling with satisfaction as he kissed his neck. “There,” he said smugly, breathless. His own  heartbeat was pounding against his chest, so hard that he was sure Crowley could feel it. He was still aroused to the point of aching and trying to calm down. He held his husband’s limp body for a few minutes as he lay panting against him, stroking his hair and kissing him on the serpent tattoo by his ear. 

This trick was definitely worth remembering for future, he thought. They were in a car on a busy London thoroughfare, but as far as privacy went they might as well have been atop Mount Everest. It was very convenient, even if the windows were fogged, and the air in the car was close and rather stifling. 

Crowley blew out a long breath and ran both hands down his face. “Wow. Oh, wow. That was...unexpected.” He tilted his head back to look at him. “I _like_ unexpected.” He sat up and shifted to a normal sitting position on the seat, and gathered Aziraphale into his arms. He kissed him, long and leisurely, and Aziraphale leaned into it with unrestrained passion. Crowley pulled back and looked at him, then down at his lap. He smirked. “Well. It looks like you’re the one who needs taking care of now, hmm?”

Aziraphale blushed, then blushed that he was blushing. He could hardly deny it, not with the hard evidence pressing forward almost ludicrously against the front of his trousers. He tried anyway and shook his head. “No, it’s alright darling, I just wanted to do this for you...” He stopped as Crowley put a hand on his cheek and leaned close. “Angel. Let me take care of you,” he murmured. “Let me help you.” 

He wanted him so badly he could barely speak, so he just swallowed and nodded. Crowley brought his lips very close to his own; almost kissing him but not quite. “Well then,” he said quietly. He placed a hand gently over his peaked groin. “Do you want me to touch you, or do you want it from my mouth?”

In answer, he reached up and placed a hand on the back of Crowley's head, and pulled his face down to his lap. Crowley went willingly, easing down off the leather seat to kneel on the carpeted floor of the car. He ran a hand over the achingly hard bulge between the angel’s legs. “Look at you,” he whispered. “You’re just about there already, aren’t you?” He stroked it once more and kissed it, then unzipped the fly and tugged the trousers off all the way down to his ankles, taking his time about it. Aziraphale watched, trying not to squirm with impatience. God, but he looked gorgeous kneeling there like that.

Crowley slowly pulled down his shorts as well and pushed his knees apart, moving in close between his legs. He then glanced up, lips curving into a wicked grin. 

He kissed his bare thigh, and ran his warm tongue up the inside of his leg. He stopped right before he reached his groin, and Aziraphale thought he might die from the delicious anticipation. 

“Oh, you- you-”

“Patience is a virtue, Angel,” Crowley mumbled against his leg. He didn’t lift his head, but Aziraphale could hear the laughter in his voice. 

He glared down at him indignantly. “Well, it’s not one of MY virtues!” 

He raised his face to look up at him, and sure enough he was grinning. “Really? I would never have guessed.” 

He took a breath to deliver a witty retort, but at that moment Crowley lowered his head, wrapped his mouth around the full erect length of him and sucked in a long, slow pull. 

Aziraphale almost burst right then and there; all the built-up tension came sharply to a head and nearly overpowered him. He exhaled harshly and shut his eyes, struggling to not lose control completely, not yet. He wanted to make this last. His hand groped at the ceiling of the Bentley, looking for anything to grab as support. Crowley made a low sound that might have been a laugh if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, and the vibrations in his throat did things to him that made him forget his own name. The demon licked him from bottom to top, excruciatingly slowly, then took him back in his mouth and sucked him again. His mouth was warm and wonderful and utterly insistent. Someone had clearly also been paying attention during the last few months. Aziraphale grasped the back of his lover’s head, clutching his hair and running his hands through the softness of it. It had grown out a bit and was slightly shaggy now- just long enough to grip easily. He pressed down, moaning at the soft warmth. "Crowley," he gasped out. 

Without raising his head, Crowley reached up and tenderly removed his hands from his hair, pinning both wrists down to the leather seat at his sides and stroking the inside of his forearms with his thumbs. He chuckled again deep in his throat, making the angel gasp, and slid his hands down to clasp their palms together. He squeezed at the same time that he sucked, still excruciatingly slowly, then again. 

Aziraphale only lasted three more long, blissful pulls before the exquisite pleasure all became too much; he lost control and erupted, forcefully. Crowley released his wrists and grabbed his bare flank with both hands, holding him deep in his mouth, and the angel seized his hair in turn and and clutched tight as he hunched forward and emptied himself with a long, drawn out groan. 

The spasms finally ceased, and he fell back against the seat and lay there limply with his head back, panting with one hand over his eyes. After a final squeeze Crowley slowly raised his head and let go, stroking his hands down his thighs as he did so. Aziraphale heard him rummaging around, and peeked over to see him discreetly spit into a handkerchief. 

Crowley settled himself back onto the seat next to him with a grunt and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling Aziraphale in to lean against his chest. He brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly. They just relaxed there together for a minute, both sweating from exertion and the pent up heat in the enclosed space. Despite that, it was nice in the darkened car. It was their own private, familiar world away from prying human eyes. Aziraphale closed his own eyes and rested his cheek on his husband’s shoulder, enjoying the sense of deep wellbeing the afterglow brought. 

Crowley sighed contentedly and kissed the side of his head, tightening his arms. ”Better?” 

“Mmm. Much.” 

”I should take you to art galleries more often if this is the effect it has on you,” he commented. 

Aziraphale laughed and tilted his chin up to kiss Crowley’s mouth, the same mouth that had been making him cry out just a couple minutes ago. “Art can be very...exciting.” 

“Apparently.” 

Aziraphale shoved at him, smiling. ”I’m actually a bit hungry now,” he said thoughtfully. “How about you?”

“Hm. There’s an ice cream place just down the way,” Crowley suggested. He paused. “Though maybe we should put our trousers back on first.”

Aziraphale sighed, wistful. He was so very comfortable. “Must we?” 

Crowley grinned against his cheek. “Well _I _don’t mind shocking a few humans, but I thought you might object to that sort of exhibitionism.” 

“Good Lord. I meant...never mind, you know what I meant. Let’s go!” He sat up and quickly pulled his khaki trousers back up over his hips, buttoning them.

“Are you sure?” Crowley was slowly doing the same with his jeans, grinning at him all the while. “Since you’re feeling so bold and all. Honestly, they might not even notice. All of reality got rewritten right in front of them and no one ever noticed a thing. I could just-" he reached for the door, pants still only halfway pulled up. 

Aziraphale yelped and lunged forward to grab his arm. “Don’t you dare! I swear, Crowley...” His husband was snorting with laughter now, and he was trying and failing to keep from smiling back. Crowley reached for the door again, and this time he grabbed the front of his t-shirt and yanked him into a kiss, toppling him over into the seat and holding him down. 

“Don’t make me insist,” Aziraphale said with mock severity when he came up for air. He kissed his nose and started to sit up, but Crowley seized the front of his dress shirt and yanked him back down on top of him. He caught his face in both hands and looked up at him, eyes abruptly serious. “Angel, I would _love_ for you to insist," he growled softly. His gaze was intense, and his warm fingers stroked the sides of his face. "If you don't, I will be doing some insisting as soon as we get home.” He heaved them both upright while Aziraphale was still trying to find his voice. Crowley fastened the button on his jeans, straightening his shirt and smoothing his disheveled hair back. He leaned over and picked up his glasses from the front seat, and slid them onto his face. He flashed a roguish grin, and with a snap of his fingers the windows cleared, flooding the car with sunlight again. 

“But first, ice cream.”

**Author's Note:**

> Partly inspired by this [amazing fanart](https://aivelin.tumblr.com/post/185713052766/hot-times-in-bentley-inspired-by-titanic-of)


End file.
